As Rick and I sat waiting in the Don Jon café on Sunday night for our char-grilled beef scotch fillet to arrive, the friendly waitress who’d greeted us at the door suddenly turned up at our table with two miniature-sized cupfuls of what looked like soup… or sauce.

Rick and I looked at the dwarf-like cups, then at each other and then back at the cups again. Without even speaking, we knew already what the other was thinking: Was this soup (but we hadn’t ordered any entrees) or sauce (but why would they serve it before the beef in a little cup on a saucer)?

Without wanting to embarrass ourselves, we tentatively poked at the mixture with our forks and tasted it in an attempt to work out what it was. Rick was quite adamant that it was sauce but I insisted that it was some sort of chowder.

In the end, we decided to risk the embarrassment of appearing like a couple of ignorant Sydneysiders (which admittedly we were) and took the plunge by quietly asking the waitress what exactly we were supposed to do with the contents of the cups. Unfortunately, the waitress didn’t appear to understand our question (and rightly so, one might say) but even worse (to our shame), the couple on the table next to us overheard us (what were they doing eavesdropping anyway) and informed us quite heartily that it was potato bisque – a complimentary appetiser.

As we thanked the waitress for her ‘help’, she quietly told us that she’d accidentally brought up two extra cups of the bisque for us and meekly asked us whether or not we would want them as well. Why not, we said, as we silently grinned at each other, secretly pleased with ourselves that we’d managed to score a rather delicious entrée completely free of charge (clearly, Rick ain’t a slower learner when it comes to picking up Asian habits).

It almost made us feel better about the whopping $31 which we were paying for each of our steak…

There is something about being away from home that enables one to feel completely relaxed and at peace. This weekend, Rick and I indulged ourselves in a little R&R by heading up to the Blue Mountains for a romantic bed & breakfast treat. It was our first ‘holiday’ together since our honeymoon back in July and it was truly worth it.

Staying at the gorgeous Tablelands Bed & Breakfast helped immensely. I was impressed from the moment we stepped into our garden apartment studio. Not only was the décor of the room rich yet modern (in particular, the luxurious blue carpet made the entire studio feel so warm & cosy), the owners had out-done themselves in attending to the most intricate of details to ensure that we thoroughly enjoyed our stay. From the basketful of cereal boxes carefully laid out in the kitchenette to the fragrant-smelling toilet roll that was folded down to a point in the bathroom, the studio resembled five-star hotel accommodation in every respect. What’s more, not only did we enjoy the privacy of our own studio, we also had access to the beautiful guest room in the main house, which had sweeping views of Sydney. No kidding. We could actually make out the outline of the CBD in the distance. It was absolutely breathtaking.

My verdict on the weekend? Retreating to a comfy bed & breakfast place is a worthy investment for any marriage.

….or so Juliet asked. Well, if I had been around when she uttered that somewhat innocent question, I for one could’ve told her.

A name not only defines one’s identity, it also defines the weight of one’s wallet. Or lack of, for that matter.

Especially when you’re an Asian whose parents gave you one of those English names in a dead set hurry because they had to migrate fast but unfortunately never bothered to add it to either your passport or your certificate of citizenship. Add to that the ordeal of changing your last name to your husband’s surname and you’ve got yourself a pretty darn clear answer to that rather famous Shakespeare line.

After getting back from work today, Rick and I managed to enjoy ten minutes of one such evening before having to rush off to our Tuesday night bible study.

As I sat on his lap on our balcony, I did my best to take in everything that the evening had to offer.

The gentle rustling of the trees. The chirping of the crickets. The cool breeze brushing against our skin. The pinkish glow of the sky. The fresh smell of spring. The feel of Rick’s skin against my back. The soft drone of the occasional car driving by. The scratch of Rick’s beard on my head.

Right there and then I decided that Rick and spring went very well together.

Two months into married life, and I’ve finally completed the monumental task of setting up broadband at our new home. Somehow, I’d managed to survive the two-month hiatus of no broadband. No fast internet. No downloading files at the speed of lightning. Well, not exactly – but you know what I mean.

But now, I’m back online courtesy of Unwired.com.au. And as the over-rated cliche goes – it’s good to be back.

My friends call me Ronnie, and you can too. I'm a graphic designer by trade, and a neat freak by nature. I started my own design studio in 2005 and ran it for seven years. I live in Sydney with my man, Rick, and four of our five little boys. We lost our first son, Cameron, at 41 weeks and we miss him every day. I love memory keeping, I love coffee, and I love de-cluttering. This year, I'm making over my life. I've been blogging for ten years now, and love how it keeps me sane. Grab a cup of tea, and have a browse. It's lovely to have you here.

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Life Without Cameron

This is my other blog, one that's close to my heart. It is a chronicle of our journey after losing our firstborn son, Cameron Angus Mason. Cameron died in utero at 41 weeks on 15 September 2007. He was born the day after on 16 September 2007. We love him dearly and miss him terribly. We will never forget him, our beloved first child.